Picking Apples In Late September
by Dorplet
Summary: "I could do with some sunshine. Or apples." — Anne;Julian Holland.


**notes -** well, I always wanted to write a Blyton fic. This story was just begging to be written, and I wrote it in an hour. It involves appearances from Malory Towers characters, the Famous Five and the Naughtiest Girl series. I took some liberties with the schools and history of certain characters. This story may be continued. Enid Blyton fics really need more love.

Psst, this is a repost from my other account, so don't be surprised if you've seen this before. This was first uploaded in 2014.

* * *

Anne didn't believe in love at first sight.

Definitely not.

It was ridiculous, she thought. All those books where you fell in love with your soulmate as soon as you laid eyes upon him, and he whisked you away on a white horse and married you in a week. Where you 'stared into the bottomless depths of his soul' and the both of you felt a spark, an instant connection. In fact, Romeo and Juliet was one of the most unbelievable stories she had ever read. After going through it last year in Literature, she had gained plenty of knowledge about the most famous love story.

Which was why she was feeling very bewildered by her own reaction.

He wasn't much to look at. Messy black hair. Glasses. A rather lanky and slim physique. He had just arrived from America (Massachusetts, she had heard a guy say) and he was sitting at the back of the lecture theatre, a few rows away from Anne.

She sneaked another glance at him. He didn't appear to be listening to the lecturer; instead, he had a rather blank expression on his face. He clutched a pen in his hand, but he was using it to doodle aimlessly on his notebook as he stared off into empty space. He took off his glasses and began to polish them. Anne couldn't see what his eye colour was from this distance.

"Psst." A hand dug into her ribs. "Stop turning around - The Bull has got his eye on you."

Hurriedly, Anne whipped her head to the front, her face flushed with embarassment. She nodded a grateful thanks at the dark-haired girl sitting next to her. Darrell gave her a quick smile before raising her hand up to answer a question. Anne breathed a sigh of relief as _The Bull_ \- or rather, Mr Verres, nicknamed so because of his thick bushy eyebrows - fixated his attention upon Darrell instead. "Tell me," he called out, "how did the Schlieffen Plan affect WWI?"

Anne scribbled down some notes and resolved not to look back anymore.

Still, she couldn't help the tingling feeling on the back of her neck.

* * *

"Thanks for warning me," Anne repeated as she and Darrell exited the theatre, holding their books tightly to their chest.

Darrell nodded. "No problem. The Bull is someone you don't want to get in trouble with. Hey - SALLY! OVER HERE!" Darrell frantically waved her hand, trying to catch the tall, blond girl's eye. Sally Hope gave a delighted grin and pushed her way through the flow of students..

"Hi, Darrell! Hi, Anne. How was your lesson?" asked Sally. Her blond hair was tied up in a messy ponytail with hair brushing her neck. Sally vainly attempted to tighten the hair tie before giving up and letting her hair loose.

"It was fine." Darrell shrugged. "I mean, we were mostly trying to avoid The Bull, and I answered a couple of questions on WWI. Anne almost - wait, where's Anne?"

The short girl had vanished.

Anne was squeezing through the crowd, muttering various apologies to students she bumped into. Some of the older ones scowled down at her, not bothering to disguise their contempt for freshmen like her. Anne suddenly felt rather conscious of her height. She had wished so much she would grow taller, but in truth, she had only grown a couple of inches in height since she turned twelve. She was barely past five feet.

Finally, she managed to make her way to the courtyard, filled with lush greenery and all the colours of autumn. Gold leaves crackled beneath her feet as she headed towards her favourite tree. It was chock full of ripe red apples, all ready to drop and be eaten by willing mouths. Anne stood on tiptoe and stretched out her hand to reach for an apple, but alas, her hand merely brushed the empty air in front of the lowest-hanging apple. She sighed. She would never be able to eat those apples. Not unless someone plucked them for her -

A hand reached out and grasped the apple, detaching it from the branch and placing it into her open palm. Shocked, Anne curled her fingers around the apple, a _thank you_ ready on her lips as she spun to face the unknown benefactor.

She couldn't make the words come out. She craned her head and - _oh_. It was _him_. She stared up, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. "Ehm," said Anne.

"Hello, my name's Julian." He held out a hand and automatically, Anne went to shake it. In order to do so, she had to let go of the apple and her brain didn't register it until the apple was lying in the grass.

"Oh no," Anne said, eyes very wide. She bent down to pick it up and fumbled around with shaky fingers. In the process, she managed to kick it with her foot.

"Eep," went Anne as she and Julian watched the apple roll down the hill and into a bush. "I'm - I'm so sorry! I'm sorry. I mean, my name is Anne. Not sorry. Heh. And I like apples."

She did _not _just say that. Anne resisted the urge to zip her lips tightly shut and prevent more words from spilling out. What would Julian think of her now? "Look, I am so sorry about the apple, I didn't mean to drop it, or kick it, sometimes I'm just not thinking and I do strange involuntary actions. Like kicking. Thanks for the apple, anyway, and I think I'll just go now." The last words came out in a desperate squeak.

Julian caught her elbow as she attempted to flee. "Hey, wait a moment! Don't worry about the apple." He beamed at her, and his green eyes lit up and crinkled around the corners. "Accidents happen."

"But they always seem to happen around me," Anne confessed in a rush.

Julian shrugged. "Happens to everyone. Listen, how about we introduce ourselves again? Without apples this time." A slow smile crept across his face like the dawn of a winter sun.

Anne felt the corners of her lips tug up in response. "I'm Anne. You -you have the same name as my brother."

"That's interesting. I'm Julian Holland, but you already know that," he said, running his fingers absent-mindedly through his hair. Anne desperately tried to quash the sudden flutterings of her heart that had suddenly appeared. "I used to go to Whyteleafe, but I left for two years because my dad had to work in America. It's great to be back in England. I've missed it. You can't get this type of landscape anywhere in America - no wonder they call England 'quaint'. It's simply marvelous. You can even say it's _smashing_."

Anne giggled at the reminder of her boarding school days. "Smashing, isn't it?" said Anne, intentionally making her voice higher pitched. "My, what a wizard school we have here."

"Wizard," Julian agreed. "The best school ever. Say, what school were you from?"

"Malory Towers -" Anne began, stopping as the clock started to strike one. The bell tower looming in the west usually cast an imposing shadow over the courtyard, but not in the afternoon. The huge, brass bell swung back and forth. "Blow! Look at the time now. I haven't finished my letter to George." She sank onto the soft grass and pulled out a half-written letter. She hastily wrote her last few lines, smudging the ink in her impatience. Julian joined her beneath the shade of the tree.

He stared at what she was writing. "Who's George? Your friend?" asked Julian, sounding rather sharp.

"My cousin, actually. And she's Georgina, but she prefers to be called George." Anne slid the letter into the envelope. "She prefers everyone to think of her as a boy. And she's got this dog, Timmy, and she absolutely adores him. She's really confident and brave, but she does have a quick temper."

Julian raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like a friend I had in Whyteleafe. Whenever there was a commotion, Elizabeth was sure to be in the center of it. She's the most warm-hearted and generous person I've ever known, though. She's smart too, and can play the piano well. Too bad she chose not to go to St. Andrews," he said wistfully. Anne breathed in and out deeply, trying to keep the smile pasted on her face.

"Sounds like she's wonderful," said Anne, doing her best to make it a genuine compliment. "Do you... miss her?"

Julian hesitated. "Being friends with her is like being friends with a thunderstorm. You never know what Elizabeth is going to do next - every day is unpredictable. And it's fun. It's like being on a roller coaster ride."

"But I think I've had enough of storms and hurricanes for a while. I think, maybe, I could do with some sunshine. Or apples." And he reached over to squeeze her hand, twining her fingers with his. Anne felt warmth spread throughout her entire body from their interlocked hands and she squeezed Julian's hand tighter.

She smiled. "I could do that."


End file.
